


Loki, God of Fire

by Selysin



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF Loki (Marvel), Fire, Fire Giant Tony Stark, Fluff and Crack, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki (Marvel) Gets a Hug, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Loki is a GOD, M/M, Mage Tony Stark, Tony Stark Does What He Wants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23119558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selysin/pseuds/Selysin
Summary: When you're the God of Fire there's nothing you can't burn, not even the mighty Mjolnir.The Fire Giants approve, particularly Prince Anthony of Muspelhiem.
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Comments: 37
Kudos: 527
Collections: FrostIron





	Loki, God of Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SalamanderInk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SalamanderInk/gifts).



> Another fic inspired by the FrostIron discord server.

It started small, a prank gone wrong, nothing more, nothing less. Thor had been particularly annoying and Loki wanted a little revenge. Something subtle, something that wouldn’t lead back to him. 

Warm mead. The room was certainly hot enough that it should pass unnoticed, well, unattributed to him anyway, and Thor had only just started drinking so he’d still notice and be disgusted by the taste. If Loki could just keep it up for long enough Thor would have to remain sober for once in his damned life and then he could be the one corralling the idiots four. 

Loki hadn’t meant to set the mead on fire and singe off Thor’s beard. 

Of course he had absolutely zero intention of confessing this. It wasn’t as if anyone would believe him, God of Lies and all, and even if they did he’d just get lectured on his lack of control. It was a little worrying, he’d worked hard on his mastery of fire magic, but not worrying enough that he wanted to endure yet another lecture that wouldn’t actually help him. 

No, confession wasn’t the way to go. Instead he smirked at his brother, stroked his chin and cast an invisibility spell on himself before slipping away. Thor, predictably, charged the illusion that he’d left behind and crashed into the wall when he failed to meet the expected resistance. 

For something that had immediately gone wrong his prank was proving to be quite satisfying. 

* * *

The next time it was significantly less small and considerably more deliberate. Thor had been toting around his new hammer like it was a security blanket and challenging everyone to prove their worthiness. Loki wasn’t sure how being an arrogant braggart made you worthy of swinging around a misshapen hammer but he supposed that there were some things that were beyond even his mind. This was definitely one of them. 

“Well Loki, would you like to test your worth?” Thor asked, plonking the hammer down on Loki’s desk. 

Loki scowled up at his brother. “If you damaged my book I will stab you,” he threatened. He’d been combing through the library’s archives on fire magic and after much searching he’d managed to find a long forgotten treatise by Prince Anthony of Muspelhiem. 

“It’s just a book Loki,” Thor said. 

Loki was definitely going to stab him. Repeatedly. 

“Go on Loki,” Sif said, the idiots three joining in. No doubt they expected to see him fail. 

“Remove your hammer or I will melt it,” Loki hissed. Like all artifacts from Muspelhiem the treatise was fire-proof and Loki was pretty sure his magical protections on his desk would hold. If not, well, it was a small price to pay for removing Mjolnir. 

Thor laughed. “The mighty Mjolnir is indestructible.” 

Loki rolled his eyes, just because Thor had yet to break it didn’t mean it was indestructible. 

“Are you sure about that brother?” Loki asked though he wasn’t entirely sure he _could_ melt it. Mjolnir had been forged in the heart of a dying star. 

“Do your worst.” 

* * *

Loki should have stabbed him. Thor never carried on this much over a little blood. Honestly, you’d think he was holding the remains of his firstborn, not the twisted slag that was all that remained of the “indestructible” Mjolnir. 

At least Loki had his book back. 

Outside thunder rolled and lightning flashed. Gale force winds tore through the gardens and torrential rain flooded the streets. If Thor didn’t stop blubbering soon it would still be drier outside. 

Loki brushed a few remaining pieces of Mjolnir off his book, dodged the attempted murder by Thor’s friends and settled on his bed with a couple of wards up to hold them at bay. They were in his chambers, like Hel was he going to let them chase him away. For added fun he added a ring of fire and then a silencing spell so that he could read without distraction. 

In hindsight the last one was a mistake because it meant he didn’t notice when Thor stopped snivelling and returned to his usual method of dealing with his emotions, namely pummeling Loki.

He had a split second warning as Thor’s brute strength overpowered his wards (he’d have to do something about that later) and then he was diving off the bed in a desperate bid to avoid Thor’s fist. It was followed by lightning striking the windows, shattering the glass, and the storm surging into the room which suddenly felt entirely too small. 

Sif and the warriors three tripped over each other and Loki’s furniture as they struggled to avoid Thor’s unruly power while Thor himself charged around like an enraged bilgesnipe in a glassblower’s shop. 

Loki ducked and weaved and then he caught sight of his book. It had survived years of neglect in the library, had had Mjolnir melted upon it without even the tiniest burn mark but the Fire Giants didn’t protect their texts from water damage, why would they? A few drops of water had landed on the open pages, smearing the already cramped and difficult to decipher writing into illegibility. 

Loki snarled a curse and a wall of fire appeared in the window, ensuring that no more water would make it inside. The flames did nothing to cut the wind though and they billowed into the room with the particularly strong gusts. 

After Sif’s golden hair caught fire Thor’s idiot friends actually decided to retreat for once in their lives. Loki heard them say something about Odin and Frigga and knew that if he was to stab his brother he would have to do so quickly. He summoned his knives, green fire licking along the blades, and attacked. 

* * *

Odin and Frigga did not look happy. Loki doubted it was because of the rather substantial stab wound (and burns) he’d inflicted upon his brother.

“Thor told me to do it,” Loki said when he got tired of the combined weight of their disapproving stare. He had better things to do. He still needed to repair the absolute mess Thor had made of his bedroom and finish reading his book. Hopefully he’d be able to put together the parts that Thor had ruined from the context. 

“He told you to do it?” Odin said, his tone glacial. 

“Yes.” 

“Thor told you to destroy a priceless artifact?” 

Only like every other week, Loki didn’t see why they were so upset about it this time. Granted, he usually refused and found some other way to get them out of whatever mess Thor had blundered into but it was hardly unprecedented. 

“He said that Mjolnir was indestructible and told me to do my worst,” Loki explained. “I fail to see how it’s my fault if that piece of shoddy workmanship couldn’t stand up to a little fire.” 

“A little fire,” Frigga repeated. “Loki, you are the God of Fire.” 

Loki stared, his temper rising. “And you didn’t think to tell me this?” he demanded, heat rolling off him in waves, sparks flashing as the very air itself ignited. “You didn’t think it worth mentioning that I am the god of something that the people might actually respect me for?” 

Why hadn’t they told him? Working within his domains was far easier than working with his usual magic. Easier, more responsive to his emotions, more volatile. Honestly, it was amazing that all he’d done was singe off Thor’s beard and melt his hammer given how often he wanted to set the idiots around him on fire. 

“Enough Loki,” Odin said, striking the ground with Gungnir, sweat beading on his forehead. 

Yes, it certainly was. As satisfying as it might be to melt Gungnir as he had Mjolnir and immolate Odin’s eyepatch it certainly wouldn’t help his situation. Loki turned on his heel and stalked out, the great golden doors to the throne room melting away before him. 

* * *

The Fire Giants had laughed when the Realm Eternal announced the ascension of a God of Fire. What could an Asgardian possibly know of fire? 

They weren’t laughing now, not after word came from Asgard that he’d melted Mjolnir with nothing more than his bare hands. Prince Anthony had studied at the great forges of Nidavellir, he knew what it took to destroy one of their masterpieces and he was impressed, not that he’d admit it, but perhaps it was time to meet this God of Fire. 

None of his people objected when he suggested a feast with a certain Asgardian guest of honour. Thor and his idiot friends were a scourge upon Muspelheim, traipsing across the realm as if they owned it and killing anyone unfortunate enough to cross their path. The loss of a weapon actually able to withstand the Thunderer’s brute strength was certainly cause for celebration. 

* * *

Anthony felt it the moment Loki arrived on Muspelheim though there was no flash of light to signal the Bifrost. Nonetheless, the realm itself responded to the God of Fire, welcoming him, and soon everyone would know that he’d arrived. Even his constructs felt it, whirring around the workshop in excitement. 

Anthony kept working. 

It was over an hour later when he finished his current project and decided that maybe he should go and meet the Asgardian Prince. He had been the one to invite him after all though Loki _had_ arrived early. 

He headed towards where he had felt the godling arrive only to slow as he realised that the prince was no longer there. He frowned and tracked Loki to the Fields of Fire which was rather a long way from where he’d arrived to travel in an hour. 

There was no sign of the Asgardian when he arrived, nor a puddle of Asgardian goo but the fires were climbing higher and higher, the flames twisting and dancing through the air. Reds and yellows and oranges dominated his sight but he picked out flashes of blue and a deep emerald green. 

The very fire itself seemed to be humming, singing, reaching out to welcome the God of Fire. Anthony huffed, peering through the flames in search of the wayward god. 

“I don’t suppose you’ve seen Prince Loki?” he asked a nearby fire demon. The demon didn’t answer but a minute later a large dragon with iridescent scales of black and green descended through the clouds of flame. 

He landed with a resounding crash that Anthony felt in his bones. Stone cracked beneath his claws and the very ground shook. The dragon gazed down on him through emerald eyes as it folded its wings and swished its tail. A lesser man might have stepped back but Anthony refused to back away from the dragon.

“Prince Loki?” Anthony said again. The dragon nodded, the firelight reflecting off its large curled horns, but gave no indication of wanting to take a more humanoid form. 

“I am Prince Anthony of Muspelhiem.”

Emerald magic flared around the dragon and rapidly contracted until an attractive man stood in its place. The prince was slender for an Asgardian, his hair just as dark as his scales had been and his eyes the same bright green. 

Instead of the usual Asgardian armour, which would have been dangerously hot on Muspelheim, he wore a mage’s long robes decorated with arcane symbols denoting his masteries. Even by Anthony’s standards there were a lot. 

“I read your treatise on fire magic,” Loki said, “it was quite good.” 

“Quite good?” Anthony repeated, setting aside the question of how Asgard had got their grubby hands on a copy. “It was excellent.”

Loki sniffed. “In places perhaps.” 

“In places,” Anthony spluttered. 

Loki smirked. “You may be a genius when it comes to forging but your work with pure fire was somewhat lacking.” 

Anthony preened at the compliment (ignoring the may for now) and then spluttered in outrage when Loki continued. The Trickster’s eyes glittered with amusement as Anthony took a deep breath to explain how it was Loki’s intellect that was lacking, it was hardly Anthony’s fault if the godling didn’t understand the intricacies of working with pure fire.

* * *

Adorable was not a word one usually associated with Fire Giants and yet… Loki could think of no better word to describe Prince Anthony. He was short for a fire demon, wreathed in tesseract blue flames with warm golden eyes that Loki frequently had to look away from lest he become entranced. 

The other prince was an animated man, waving his hands around as he defended his (erroneous) position. His face showed his every emotion and there was a familiar fire in his eyes. Perhaps insulting his work wasn’t the best greeting but Anthony had risen to the challenge and Loki was delighted. Asgardians never tried to debate him, having long since learnt better. 

In fact, Loki was thinking some decidedly non-Asgardian thoughts about his new acquaintance, thoughts that only involved slaying of the metaphorical kind. He should probably focus on correcting the man’s hypotheses before Anthony noticed the heat in his face. 

Yes, that was a good idea, he’d just focus his attention on Anthony’s mind. His wonderful, dazzling mind that effortlessly kept up with Loki’s leaps of logic, that took Loki’s ideas and built upon them, that was even more enticing than his body. 

“Are you alright?” 

Loki blinked and shook his head slightly to clear it. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” 

“You look a little flushed.” 

“Oh, I’m just excited.” _Norns, why did he say that? Where was his famed silver tongue when he needed it?_ “It’s not often I find such an eloquent interlocutor,” he babbled because polysyllabic nonsense would definitely cover up his earlier slip. If the Norns decided to smite him now he’d welcome it. 

Anthony beamed at him. “It is rather difficult to find intelligent conversation is the Realm Eternal isn’t it?” 

Loki bit back a sigh of relief and added ‘oblivious idiot’ to Anthony’s list of qualities. “Indeed,” he agreed. 

* * *

Muspelhiem was nothing like what Loki had been taught, or perhaps it was just Anthony’s presence that made him think that. The Fire Giants actually seemed to like him, to respect him. The cuisine was a little odd and for all that he was the God of Fire there were times when he would have killed for a little ice but overall it was nice. 

In the mornings he explored, meeting the other Fire Giants and playing with fire. Mages were honoured on Muspelheim, his tendency to mischief won him friends and his experiments provoked spirited debate. 

He spent the afternoons with Anthony and his constructs, Dummy and U. Anthony’s constructs were delightful. They were inquisitive and, well, they tried to be helpful but Dummy was forever setting things on fire and U’s idea of what constituted proper food left a lot to be desired. 

More often than not he spent the evenings (and nights and early mornings) with Anthony unless they were required to attend a feast or Anthony had to attend to his duties under the watchful eye of a woman that he’d only ever heard referred to as Pepper though that couldn’t possibly be her real name. Pepper was a spice, not a name. Apparently arguing with Anthony about the nicknames he assigned everyone was pointless. 

Suffice it to say he was disappointed when Odin actually came in person to drag him home. 

“I’ll visit,” Anthony promised before they parted. Proper leave taking between the royalty of two realms was quite an ordeal and took more than long enough for Loki to leave a couple of illusions in place and speak to Anthony in secret. “I’m a prince, visiting other realms is a thing that princes do isn’t it? For diplomacy.” 

Loki couldn’t help but smile despite the situation, Anthony’s babbling really was adorable “In theory,” Loki said. Thor wouldn’t know diplomacy if it hit him in the face and set his beard on fire. As far as his oaf of a brother was concerned princes visited other realms to kill things. 

“Well, every good theory needs to be tested.” 

“An experiment then,” Loki suggested. 

“I’m looking forward to it.” 

“I’m sure the results will be fascinating,” Loki said. He didn’t think a giant had been seen in Asgard since before he was born. Behind them the speeches were wrapping up and then Odin would drag him back to the Bifrost site like an unruly child and Norns only knew how long it would be before he could sneak out of Asgard and see Anthony again. He couldn’t, wouldn’t leave like this. 

Loki licked his lips, eyes fixed on the other man. He’d wondered over the last few days, weeks, months if this was what love felt like, this happiness whenever the other was near, the butterflies, the desperate need to see the other man smile and hear him laugh. He hadn’t dared to find out, Loki had never been a God of Courage. 

He swallowed and gathered what courage he could, determined not to miss this chance. 

“I’ll miss you,” he whispered before pressing their lips together in a gentle kiss. Anthony blinked at him and then a broad grin spread across his face. 

“I’ll miss you too,” Anthony replied, closing the distance between them once more. “This is definitely an experiment we need to repeat.” 

“Definitely-” 

“Come Loki,” Odin demanded before he could say anymore. “You’ve disgraced Asgard enough with your behaviour.” Loki cast one last mournful look at Anthony and resigned himself to enduring the Realm Eternal(ly boring) once more. 

* * *

“What were you thinking Loki?” Frigga scolded, “running away to Muspelhiem!” 

“I was invited,” Loki said, aiming for flippant and falling well short of the mark. He’d always wandered from realm to realm and he’d never seen his mother so upset about it before. Why did Muspelheim concern her more than the idiotic quests that Thor had dragged him off on? Those had been much more dangerous. 

“No, you weren’t,” Odin said. 

Loki levelled his father with an unimpressed stare. “God. Of. Lies.” True, he hadn’t been given the invitation but he’d seen it in Odin's study and a feast in Muspelheim had seemed a great deal more appealing than his continuing punishment for melting Thor’s hammer. And the throne room doors. And the rude words they’d spelled when the gold cooled. 

“What about the danger?” Frigga asked. 

“What danger?” Loki said. “I didn’t require a healer’s attention once while I was there which is more than can be said for the same amount of time in my brother’s company.” Perhaps his quarters had not been as luxurious as he was used to but nothing on Muspelheim had done him any harm. 

Frigga frowned. “The heat didn’t bother you?” 

“I’m the God of Fire mother,” Loki said, patience with her sudden over-protectiveness wearing thin. It was fine when Thor dragged him into danger so why did she suddenly care when he did something he wanted to do? 

“But you always suffer during the height of summer,” Frigga said. “Being the God of Fire didn’t change that.” 

Loki pressed his lips into a thin line. He’d clearly been the God of Fire for some time before they saw fit to tell him if she spoke with such certainty. “It seems that there’s sufficient difference between the sun and fire,” and lava, “for that not to be a problem. Now, is there anything else or may I take a bath?” They’d had other means of getting clean and he’d taken the occasional dip in lakes of lava while shape-shifted but that wasn’t quite the same as soaking in hot water and they’d not had the chance to visit the rare hot springs. He’d have to remedy that on his next visit. 

“You are confined to the palace until further notice,” Odin said, “we will discuss the further details of your punishment on the morrow.” Lovely, Odin wanted him to stew in his own fears overnight. Alas for him Loki much preferred to review his research and fantasize about Anthony. 

“Of course Allfather,” Loki replied. 

“You’re dismissed.” 

Loki stalked out, barely keeping the presence of mind to refrain from melting the doors to his parents’ chambers as he had those on the throne room. He was aware that he was treading on thin ice but the pure joy he’d felt while with Anthony was worth it. 

* * *

“Welcome to Asgard Prince Anthony,” Loki said, barely able to keep from beaming at Anthony as he crossed the Bifrost. They'd exchanged letters every day and Loki had made liberal use of astral projection but it wasn't the same as being able to hold Anthony in his arms, as being able to touch and smell and taste him. Loki wanted to hug him, to kiss him, to strip off his clothes and devour him. Now he could. 

Loki was tempted to teleport them both straight to his chambers but Anthony was a royal guest and that meant pageantry and processions and formality. He wasn't an honoured guest of course, Loki wouldn't be greeting him alone if he was, but he _was_ a guest of the royal family. Loki was increasingly sure that he should have simply snuck Anthony into Asgard. 

“I see you remembered your princely duties for once, or did Pepper remember for you?” 

“That’s uncalled for,” Anthony sniffed. 

Loki raised an eyebrow. 

“I remembered,” Anthony said. “She just organised everything.” 

“Well Norns forbid you be expected to organise anything,” Loki replied. Anthony claimed that he had a system but it was so chaotic that even Loki struggled to parse it. He loved it. 

“We all have our talents.” 

“Indeed,” Loki agreed. “Is riding among yours?” 

“What is there to ride on Muspelheim?” 

Loki rolled his eyes. “This is hardly your first diplomatic visit offworld but we can walk to the palace easily enough.” 

“Thank the Norns,” Anthony said. “Horses don’t seem to like me for some reason.” 

“You could try a cat instead,” Loki offered. 

Anthony snorted. “Cats are even more wilful than horses, I think I’ll walk thanks.” 

“Walking it is,” Loki agreed. “How is your work proceeding?” When he’d left Muspelheim Anthony had been working on a suit of armour that would not have its integrity compromised by the fierce heat radiated by the Fire Giants. He’d also said something about making it fly and if anyone could make a flying set of armour it would be Anthony, particularly now that Loki had corrected some of his more wrong-headed notions about working with fire. 

Loki lost himself in Anthony’s voice as they walked, hanging off his every word and frequently interrupting with his own ideas, so utterly absorbed by the other man that he barely paid attention to the people backing away from them and the whispered curses as they passed. Thor and the idiots four blocking the road were much harder to ignore. 

“What is this Loki?” Thor demanded, pointing to Tony with his new sword. Loki had already lost count of how many swords the oaf had destroyed since the destruction of Mjolnir. If he just learned to moderate his strength… But no, self control was only something Loki needed to have. 

“Prince Anthony is a guest,” Loki said, already bracing for the worst. 

“He’s a Fire Giant.” 

“Your powers of observation are stunning.” 

“He should not be here.” 

“Hiemdell opened the Bifrost for him,” Loki said, “and the Allfather informed us of his visit a month ago.” It was far too long for important information to remain in Thor’s minuscule brain but Loki figured it was worth a try. Thor might have whined to the idiots four and they committed his every utterance to memory. 

“The Allfather would never allow such a beast entrance into Asgard,” Sif spat, “look at him, he’s terrifying the people!” 

“He allowed you into Asgard,” Anthony retorted, “and you are truly a terrifying sight.”

“You should fear me,” Sif said, drawing herself up, sword in hand. 

“Oh Norns,” Loki muttered. “Let us pass brother,” Loki said, taking a half step in front of Anthony. “Prince Anthony is a diplomatic envoy from Muspelhiem, our presence is expected in the palace.” 

Sif and the warriors three scoffed. 

“Enough of your tricks Loki,” Thor said. “Dispel this illusion at once.” 

“I’m not an illusion blondie,” Anthony said, plucking a fireberry out of his pocket and lobbing it at Thor. Thor started when it bounced off him and then stared dumbly at the little berry lying on the road. 

“He is real?” 

“Yes Thor,” Loki said with exaggerated patience. 

“You brought a Fire Giant into Asgard?” 

“Hiemdell brought him,” Loki corrected. “I’m just escorting him to the palace. Come, you can accompany us and then you will see that I speak the truth brother.” 

Sif narrowed her eyes. He and Sif had never exactly been friends but ever since he burned off her hair and it grew back black she had hated him. He didn’t see why she was so upset about it, Thor’s beard hadn’t grown back at all. “He’s lying, it’s a plot to assassinate the Allfather.” 

“What?” Loki yelped. He might hate Odin much of the time but he loved him too and he certainly didn’t want to kill him. 

“Loki,” Thor said, giving him his disappointed look. 

“You can’t honestly believe her,” Loki said. They couldn’t possibly have drifted so far apart that Thor would believe him capable of such base treachery. And yet the anger in his eyes suggested that he did. Loki faltered in the face of his ire and Anthony put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Maybe I should just go back to Muspelhiem Lokes,” Anthony suggested. “Clearly I’m not welcome here.” 

“I will not allow you to retrieve reinforcements,” Thor said, his grip on his sword tightening. 

“Then let us go to the palace,” Loki said, even if Thor tried to drag them to the cells he’d be able to send a messenger to the Allfather and mother would certainly investigate once she heard what was happening. 

“So he can end the Allfather?” Sif spat. “Do you think us fools Loki?”

 _Yes._ He heard a muffled snigger behind him but didn’t dare look back for fear that he’d burst out laughing if he did. 

“Kill the traitor,” some idiot in the gathering crowd called

“Ergi filth,” someone else called, the rest of the crowd began shouting their own insults, given free reign by Thor’s silence. 

“Thor,” Loki tried one more time. He wanted to curse his idiot brother into next year but doing so now would only set off a riot. He’d known that he wasn’t well liked but he’d never thought that he’d have to worry about being torn apart by the mob while his brother did nothing. 

“Kill the monster!” someone yelled before he could speak any further. 

Thor nodded and raised his sword while the crowd began to throw whatever was at hand. Loki dodged a loaf of bread of all things and then he heard a surprised yelp from Anthony. 

Magic exploded in every direction, green flames and golden sparks racing through through the streets and setting buildings and people alight. The mob fled as the inferno around Loki raged higher and hotter. 

“I am a god you pathetic peasants,” he snarled viciously, “you will not harm what is mine.” He pushed the fire out further, to the city limits, until the home of every person who had ever insulted him, ever derided him and his skills was burning with an unquenchable fire. For too long he had been forced to swallow their words with no recourse other than barbed words and trickery but he was a prince, a god, and he would not allow Anthony to be harmed by these fools. Anthony would not suffer as he had.

“You truly are the harbinger of Ragnarok then,” Thor said, charging forward even as his sword melted and his cape burned. 

Loki scoffed, if he wanted to cause Ragnarok then he’d do much worse that set a few buildings on fire. He gestured and the melted gold that had been pooling in the street rose up to encase Thor’s feet, making him cry out in pain. 

“You brought this on yourselves,” Loki said, looking at the man he’d once called brother, at the people he’d once thought might be his friends. All now glared at him in hatred, their weapons and armour melted and skin burned. 

A comforting hand settled on his shoulder. Anthony. Loki turned away from his once brother and whisked the two of them back to Muspelhiem. He was done with Asgard. 

* * *

“Are you…” Anothy trailed off, realising how inane the question sounded. He had about a million other questions that he wanted to ask but what came out of his mouth was, “No one has ever burned a city for me before.” 

“I would scorch an entire world for you Anthony,” Loki said, emerald fire still burning in his eyes. 

“How am I supposed to outdo that?” Anthony asked. Loki had learned their courting rituals the last time he was on Muspelheim, such an intense, lasting fire was a symbol of great devotion. 

“Just be yourself,” Loki said, his expression softening. “Be mine.” 

“Always,” Anthony promised, wrapping his arms around him as the god finally broke and sobbed into his shoulder. Anthony awkwardly maneuvered them into the couch, relieved that Loki had skywalked them straight into his quarters, and stroked Loki’s hair, murmuring sweet nothings and murder plots until he cried himself to sleep. 

“You’re never going back there,” Anthony promised. He wouldn’t let Odin take Loki away again, he belonged here. He made to get up but even in his sleep Loki whimpered and clung to him so Anthony settled back in place and settled for conjuring illusions instead. He lacked Loki’s skill with illusion, preferring fabrication and smithing, but if Loki didn’t want to move then he supposed he could work on his next design. The constructs could store the illusions once he’d finished them. 

He designed new, non-Asgardian armour for Loki first, followed by knives, a staff, a sword, any weapon he might ever conceivably need really though no one on Muspelhiem would ever hurt him. They’d invited him to a feast when he melted Mjolnir, they’d probably declare a holy day in his honour when they learned of the cursed fire consuming Asgard. 

Anthony had never seen anything like it. When the emerald flames had licked around him he’d felt warm and safe, protected, but on the faces of those around them he’d seen abject fear and misery. Here and there he’d spotted people, mostly women, who seemed unbothered by the flames, and even children who played with them. He’d seen houses limmed with fire but not burning as others were reduced to ash and cinders. Even the Bifrost had burned. 

Once the weapons and armour were designed and stored in Dummy and U he turned his attention to ever-burning roses. Black and green with gold accents he decided looking at Loki’s attire, the ever-burning fire that they were composed of a symbol of their eternal love. 

Loki mumbled something into his lap, curling up a little tighter, and Anthony smiled down at him, one hand carding through his hair while the other covered a yawn. Dummy brought them a blanket and helped him to drape it over the sleeping god as Anthony struggled to reposition himself without waking him. 

“Sweet dreams,” he whispered as his own eyes fluttered shut. At least tomorrow couldn’t possibly be as bad as today. 

* * *

Loki had enjoyed his last visit to Muspelhiem but this was different. This time Anthony was his lover. This time he was simply Loki, God of Fire, not Loki, Prince of Asgard. It was refreshing to be himself without having to worry about the scheming of the court or his brother’s latest idiocy. 

If he wanted to study magic he could and no one would say it was womanly. If he wanted to be a snake or a dragon or a woman he could and no one would assume that it was a trick or a trap. If he wanted to spend all day in the library he could and no one would disturb him. 

Well, Anthony would but Loki didn’t really mind interruptions from him whether they were for food or sight-seeing or setting things on fire. He quite enjoyed the last. The few things on Muspelheim that weren’t already burning tended not to as a rule and Loki took great pleasure in breaking that rule at every opportunity. 

Loki blinked at the vast stony canyon before him. “I think this is the first time I haven’t been able to see something burning since I arrived here,” Loki said, picking up a pebble and turning it over and over in his hands, his magic investigating every atom and molecule. 

Anthony nodded. “The only fire here is that which we bring ourselves. This doesn’t burn,” he said, taking the pebble from Loki. 

“That sounds like a challenge,” Loki smirked but did nothing. This place was clearly of importance to the Fire Giants and he had no wish to disturb it. 

“Not everything is a challenge,” Anthony said. 

“You’ve never met Odin.” Or Thor or the rest of Asgard. Loki’s entire life had been a challenge, one with moving goal posts and no path to victory. 

“Odin’s on Asgard in his burning wreck of a palace and you’re here,” Anthony said, entwining their fingers. “You’re on Muspelheim with me, you’re free.”

Loki only nodded, Anthony wouldn’t lie to him but it would take some time for the truth to sink in. One day he would believe that he was free from Asgard, that that bridge was well and truly burnt, but it was not today. 

“Why did you bring me here?” Loki asked. 

“You’ll see,” Anthony replied. “It’s in the next valley.” 

“Then what are we doing in this valley?” 

“Admiring the view,” Anthony said, his eyes glued to Loki. 

“I see,” Loki smirked. “Shall we admire the view in the next valley?” 

Anthony shook his head. “No teleporting,” he said. “I wanna get this just right.” 

Loki sighed, but he couldn’t keep his lips from quirking into a smile, and they started walking. 

He couldn’t help but think at how different this would be with Thor. The next valley would surely be home to some beast that they were horrifically under prepared for and Loki would be forced to save everyone with an impressive feat of magic. 

Not that Thor and his friends would be impressed of course. They’d call him a cowardly ergi and stick him with first watch and all the chores of setting up camp even though he was exhausted. They’d claim the best loot for themselves and edit his part out of their retellings of the hunt. 

Anthony wouldn’t lead him into danger unprepared and would critique his magic rather than criticise it. They’d share any prizes they claimed and at night- well, better not to think about that if they actually wanted to make it to the next valley before nightfall. Thoughts of Anthony tended to be distracting. 

It was approaching sunset as they neared the mouth to the next valley and Anthony bid him to stop. 

“Anthony?” 

Anthony grinned and pulled out a blindfold. 

Loki raised an eyebrow. “I thought the whole idea was to see the valley?” 

“Well yeah, but I want you to see it from the right spot and if you have your eyes open it’ll ruin the surprise.” 

“I could close my eyes.” 

“Nuh uh, blindfold,” Anthony said, holding it out. 

Loki rolled his eyes. “Can you even reach high enough to tie it?” 

“I’m a giant,” Anthony huffed, stepping behind him. 

“If you say so dear,” Loki said, allowing Anthony to fasten the blindfold in place. It was cool and soft, one of the few materials spun from fibres indigenous to Muspelhiem and Loki was definitely thinking of the other uses it could be put to. 

“I do,” Anthony said, taking his hands and guiding him forward, warning him whenever there was a step or loose stone to beware of. Loki felt the ground start to slope away beneath him before flattening out and then Anthony’s hands were at his shoulders, twisting him to face the right way. 

“Are you ready?” 

“Are you?” 

“For you, always,” Anthony said, undoing the blindfold. Loki gasped. The valley before him was made of the same nonflammable rock as the one that they’d left behind but that wasn’t what took his breath away. 

The valley was carpeted in ever-burning roses. Their colours spread the spectrum and they swayed in the gentle breeze. 

“When two people wish to commit to each other they come here,” Anthony said, wrapping an arm around him. “They each plant an ever-burning rose to symbolise their love for each other.” 

Loki knew all this, he’d read about it, but words on a page couldn’t convey the beauty of the valley. Even from their little outlook he could feel them, love, warmth, devotion. Some burned with a fiery passion while others radiated contentment. He could, were he so inclined, trace every emotion, every spark of love back to the flower it originated from. He chose to bask in it in instead, his eyes half closed and a smile playing about his lips. 

“I made this for you,” Anthony said, drawing a single perfect rose out of his pocket dimension. The stem was a deep emerald green with sharp, hooked thorns and the petals were black edged with gold. It flickered and glowed, radiating Anthony’s devotion, Anthony’s love. 

“It’s perfect,” Loki said, slowly extending a hand to caress the petals. Like all fire constructs they felt insubstantial, his finger passing through the dark flames while they licked at his hand, but it wasn’t the physical sensation that interested him. No, his attention was on the emotions that Anthony had poured into making this ever-burning rose for him.

He inspected it carefully and plucked free a single petal. He reached into his own pocket dimension next, withdrawing a fine chain of emerald glass that he hung the petal from with a twist of magic. He offered the necklace to Anthony and turned so that the other man could fasten it around his neck and he’d be able to carry Anthony’s love with him always.

“I have something for you too,” he said, turning back to his love. He might not have known that Anthony was bringing him here today but Loki wasn’t one to be caught unprepared. Besides, he’d spent weeks perfecting it. 

With a flourish an ever-burning rose appeared in his hand. Anthony’s rose had a golden stem and rich red petals streaked with the unique blue that set Anthony apart from the others of his kind. 

Anthony beamed up at him and extended a hand to caress the petals, his smile brightening with every second that passed. Like Loki he pulled a chain from his pocket dimension and a petal from the flower and Loki held both flowers while Anthony fashioned his necklace before letting Anthony take them so that he could fasten the necklace in place and draw his new husband into a deep kiss. 

“Let’s find somewhere to plant these,” Anthony said. Loki took his beautiful black flower in one hand and interlaced the other with Anthony and they descended into the valley together. 

The ever-burning roses grew in pairs or occasionally trios, the stems twining together until it was almost impossible to tell where one started and the other finished. United but separate, supporting each other and impossible to tear apart. 

“See any likely spots?” Anthony asked, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. 

“Not yet,” Loki said. 

“We’ll keep looking then,” Anthony replied. Loki hummed in response. 

Some of the roses were fresh and new but most had been there for decades or centuries. Some had been planted before he was born and he was sure that others had to predate Odin and even Bor. In a couple of places he saw blackened scorch marks where love had twisted into hate and the roses had consumed each other and a handful of rose bushes were withered and wilted, the love fading. 

Loki shivered whenever they approached those ones and Anthony gave his hand a reassuring squeeze before they quickly moved on. They had to find the perfect spot and it would not be among those abominations. 

Finally he found it. It was one of the older parts of the valley and it was unlikely that any of the couples that had planted their roses here still lived but the fiery blooms radiated a love so strong it was almost intoxicating. 

Loki found himself giddy and grinning, only a hair away from giggling. He spun Anthony round and round, dancing to the soundless music of the love saturating the air. 

“Here then?” Anthony asked, laughing. 

“Here,” Loki agreed. They found a spot on the edge of the flowerbed and carefully planted their roses side by side. Frigga had taught him not to plant roses so close together but he wasn’t on Asgard anymore and these blooms needed to be together. 

Loki stepped back to admire them and chuckled as they leaned together rather than standing up straight and tall. He turned to share his joy with Anthony and found that a picnic blanket had been laid out for them along with a basket containing all of their favourite foods. There were even dishes that had come from off-world. 

“Come sit down fawn,” Anthony said, tugging on his hand. “I want to ravish my husband while I can.” 

Loki rolled his eyes. “My new helm doesn’t have horns,” he reminded Anthony as if the other man was likely to forget when he was the one who had made it. 

“Neither do fawns,” Anthony smirked. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Loki said fondly. 

“I thought I was perfect.” 

“You’re perfectly ridiculous,” Loki said, lowering himself to the ground and curling around his Anthony. “I believe you mentioned ravishing?” 

“Indeed,” Anthony said, pressing a trail of kisses to his throat. 

“Then ravish away,” Loki said. Tomorrow they would leave the valley and the Fire Giants would throw a grand feast in honour of their prince’s marriage but tonight, tonight was just for the two of them. 

* * *

Frigga descended from the ship slowly, trying to brace herself against the suffocating heat of Muspelhiem. She didn’t understand how Loki could stand it with his heritage and yet he’d abandoned Asgard to live here. 

“Allmother,” Loki said, inclining his head gracefully. He wasn’t wearing his armour, instead he wore the mage’s robes that she’d seldom seen, the sigils shimmering in the firelight. Around his neck hung a single fiery rose petal. 

“You’re married?” Frigga gasped. 

“Yes.” 

“Why didn’t you invite me?” 

Loki blinked, as if the notion hadn’t even occurred to him. “Anthony and I married according to Muspelhiem’s customs,” he said. “It was a private affair.” 

“And the feast afterwards?” Frigga demanded. 

“The Bifrost is still broken,” Loki said indifferently. 

“Loki…” Frigga had insisted that she be the one to come, that she face her son alone, certain that Odin and Thor would not be able to get through to him, particularly not after Loki and Thor’s last meeting.

“Why are you here Allmother?” Loki asked. 

Frigga winced at the formality. “I came to bring you home,” she said. The destruction of the Bifrost had forced her to come by ship. Hiemdell was one of the people who had been forced from Asgard entirely by the flames consuming the city and they’d yet to find anyone able to repair the Bifrost or build a new one. 

“I am home,” Loki said, one hand rising towards his necklace before he stilled himself. 

“Asgard is your home Loki.” 

“I think recent events prove otherwise.” 

“The cursed fire,” Frigga said. She always felt sad when she walked through the city, disappointed in a way that she could not quite define regardless of her thoughts and mood before hand. Thor and Odin both felt utterly wretched, worthless and unseen when they entered the city and they had yet to find weapons that Thor and his friends could carry through the flames, not that Sif entered the city anymore. 

Others had similar reactions, seemingly based on their interactions with Loki. Most of the children, mages and healers were fine, as were the majority of their offworld guests, but the Asier were drifting away from the city, settling on the outskirts or relocating entirely to the rural villages. 

“Ever-burning flame,” Loki corrected, “not cursed though I suppose it must seem that way to you.”

“Asgard is your home Loki,” Frigga said, “it will always be your home.” 

“Home is where you feel welcome Allmother,” Loki said, “home is where you belong. Asgard is neither of those things.” 

“Allmother,” said another voice, a short giant limned in blue flames joining them. “Lokes.” 

“You’re late,” Loki said. 

“I was working.” 

Loki snorted and extended a hand, interlacing their fingers. “Allmother, might I present my husband, Prince Anthony of Muspelhiem.” 

“It is a pleasure to meet you your highness,” Frigga said, noting the way her son’s shoulders had relaxed at his approach and his neutral expression quirked into a small smile. 

“The pleasure is all mine,” Anthony replied but his smile was bland and didn’t reach his eyes until he turned back to Loki. “Are we almost done here?” he asked, “I’d like your input on my latest project.” 

“Almost,” Loki hummed. 

“We still have a lot to discuss,” Frigga said at the same time. Loki stiffened. 

“Really?” Anthony asked, stepping out in front of her son. “Sounded like you were about done to me.”

“We haven’t seen each other for more than a year,” Frigga said. She’d hoped that they’d at least be able to sit down in the palace, not stand around on the docks. Loki had even warded against astral projection, further limiting their communication. Loki bit his lip. “Please Loki, come back to Asgard.” 

“Why should he?” Anthony asked. “So you can turn him into your scapegoat again? So you can mock him and denigrate his skills? Loki is a prince of Muspelhiem now.” 

Frigga wished that she could reassure him, that she could reassure both of them but Loki would hear the lie. Odin and Thor were furious about the cursed fire devouring Asgard and Thor, at least, did not understand why Loki had left. He’d been loudly declaring that Loki had fled like a coward for the last year. 

“Nothing ever changes in the Realm Eternal,” Anthony continued when she took too long to reply. “Come on fawn, I could use a second set of eyes on this trade agreement with Vanahiem.” 

Loki rolled his eyes. “You mean Pepper could.” He turned back to her. “Goodbye Allmother.” 

“You should get back on your ship,” Anthony added. “We wouldn’t you to get heatstroke.” He wrapped an arm around Loki and led him away from her. Loki didn’t even so much as glance back. 

* * *

“How are you?” Anthony asked, cradling Loki in his arms as Loki snuggled into his shoulder. 

“Tired,” Loki murmured. “I… I wanted something different.” He wasn’t sure what, only that he hadn’t got it from Frigga. Thankfully Anthony seemed to understand and didn’t press. 

“We can’t always get what we want,” Anthony said, stroking his hair. “But anything that is within my power…” 

“And mine,” Loki said, “I never want you to go without.” 

“Good thing you’ve taken over our trade negotiations then,” Anthony said.

“Mmmm,” Loki agreed. Muspelhiem had far more to trade than Asgard suspected, particularly with Anthony’s innovations on offer. 

“You are happy here aren’t you?” Anthony asked. 

“I am,” Loki said quickly. He was far happier on Muspelheim than he’d ever been on Asgard. 

“But…” 

“It’s nothing, truly.” 

“It’s not.”

“I miss travelling the realms,” he admitted. It was no longer about getting away from Asgard, now it was that there was simply so much to see, so much to do. He’d spent so long exploring the nine and longing to see the realms beyond Yggdrasil.

“You still can, you know.” 

Loki shook his head. “I don’t want to leave you.” 

“You’ll have to take me with you then,” Anthony said. “Pepper can manage without me, she did when I was on Nidavellir.” 

“Really?” Loki never would have dreamed of flouting his duties on Asgard for so long. Odin would not have been happy. 

“Well she sent me a lot of important documents and insisted that I spend three months a year here but that still leaves plenty of time to explore and I’ve always wanted to see Midgard.” 

“It is quite fascinating,” Loki said. “They move so quickly there.”

“To Midgard then?” 

“To Midgard,” Loki agreed. 


End file.
